The Deranged Thoughts Of A Girl

 Here, here, humans are getting endangered,  Screams the nomad, clutching his head.  Looks of confusion and dread  Can be seen among the people.  Here, here, I don't see any humans anymore,  Cries the nomad, rubbing his eyes.  They tie him up and curse him And don't wonder why he cries for them.  Here, here, these evil thoughts make my ears bleed Struggles the nomad, trying to free himself.  They laugh at him and his misery,  For their art of understanding has diminished.  Here, here, kill me now and spare me the torture Of having to live among you all,  Where kindness and humanity are scarce,  Where bloodied headlines damage our hearts Into fearing another fellow being that comes by,  But are they wrong? Don't we have to?  Where dying children don't make you flinch But losing money makes you go mad,  Doesn't that make you sick?  Where selflessness is often doubted,  And your neighbour's miseries a...

 Dreaming big enough to want a house Just for the two of us,  To know it's not settling for less if peace Pulls up a chair beside us,  To hold hands even when we are fighting Our own battles,  To live without feeling guilty of choosing a life No one wants for us,  To find love for each other without it being a  Requisite for maintaining status.  I will dream bigger for both of us to show how The world draws lines, And how it trains us not to step outside.  But if you walk beside me, I promise we will Run free, to a world where dreams Don't have to be a revolution. 

 I lay awake after I tortuously rip apart Our past,  What did I do wrong? What could I have Done differently?  I hold every conversation a prisoner, questioning  It again and again,  Somedays I know that no matter what I did or didn't,  The outcome will always be sour.  I lay awake bingeing on memories and how much Love my heart still holds for you.  Will I ever be able to put this feeling down? Will I be able To hold you?  I did everything I could, except be brave enough to Not let you go.  Somedays I rejoice when I know that you tried to love Me too.  In a way, unknown to my heart,  In a way, as broken as you are,  In a way, where we tried to be each other's,  Now our memories resurface when my heart is at rest To remind how you have always been a part of me,  And will always remain that way. 

 Lose your way, but remember love In the deepest corners of your heart,  Where doubt and anxiety can never reach. Lose your way, but keep a friend That reminds you of what you used to dream about When life plays its mean little tricks on you.  Lose your way, but reminisce about your past And what you had to let go to be here,  When sadness and misery tells you it isn't worth it.  Lose your way, but know your path isn't a straight line,  For with its twists, turns, and loops,  You often forget you still have the upper hand. 

 I was ready to bloom into womanhood When I was old enough to understand That I should be pretty to be of worth.  From wearing eyeliner to impress The boy I liked because that Was the only way men liked women.  Not attending weddings because I didn't  Want to be reminded that I haven't  Turned pretty yet Haven't bloomed yet.  When my teacher called me beautiful,  I spent a whole hour looking at myself In the mirror, trying to see what she saw.  When he told me I was always pretty,  I was furious at him for lying to me,  I hated lies but I was lying to myself every day.  You see, I was always blooming,  But not in the way the world around me wanted,  I made people feel loved genuinely,  I have turned tears into laughter,  I have offered myself solace,  And I have helped people understand  What made them bloom.  I wanted people to see me for who I am.  In a world that tortures people until They ...

 There's nothing ever so healing  As watching the clouds.  Changing shapes, spreading colours,  Moving at its own pace, and Disappearing altogether.  Does it not sound just like us?  Everything we experience as humans Can be found in nature,  It is not a weakness, rather  It's a power that we all share.  When we move along with the clouds,  Meaning rushes into our lives.  When we listen to the nature around us,  We become one with it.  But if you learn to live as a separate entity,  How will you learn about the magic our lives hold?  But if you never dream of watching the sunset,  How else do you believe that this is your home? 

 I got familiar with who she was In the kitchen,  She said she doesn't like cooking But she spent most of her life there.  Either it was her children complaining That the food was boring,  Or how her drunk husband always Send the plate flying through the air.  She was always tied down by  The one thing that she hated- Being in the kitchen.  Her daughter always feared the kitchen,  A room that held women prisoners If they liked it or not.  When people say cooking is therapy,  She was sure they had a happy family.  A day before she decided to run away,  Her mother called her 'useless' while  she was doing the dishes of the whole household.  Her father's rage was the first thing  She packed in her luggage,  Her hope that love existed was stuffed in too.  Her mother in her fifties call her a saviour Who showed her that she can dream,  Her father calls her sweet names and Asks her when she can come back...